The Wit and Humor of America Volume IV Part 5

yelled at once, an' the next thing we see was the minister droppin' his book an' grabbin' his arm an' the deacon tryin' madly to do hisself up in Polly's veil. We would 'a' all been glum petrified at such goin's on any other day, only by that time the last one of us was feelin' to hop and grab an' yell on his own account. Gran'ma Mullins was tryin' to slap herself with the seat cus.h.i.+on, an' the way the daisies flew as folks went over an' under that clematis rope was a caution. I got out as quick as I--"

"But what--" interrupted Mrs. Lathrop, her eyes fairly marble-like in their redundant curiosity.

"It was wasps!" said Susan, "it was a young wasps' nest in Mr. Jilkins's hat. Seems they carried their hats to church in their hands 'cause Polly didn't want no red rings around 'em, an' so he never suspected nothin'

till he dropped it. An' oh, poor little Brunhilde Susan in them short skirts of hers--she might as well have wore a bee hive as to be like she is now. I got off easy, an' you can look at me an' figure on what them as got it hard has got on them. Young Dr. Brown went right to work with mud an' Polly's veil an' plastered 'em over as fast as they could get into Mrs. Sweet's. Mrs. Sweet was mighty obligin' an' turned two flower-beds inside out an' let every one scoop with her kitchen spoons, besides runnin' aroun' herself like she was a slave gettin' paid. They took the deacon an' Polly right to their own house. They can't see one another anyhow, an' they was most all married anyway, so it didn't seem worth while to wait till the minister gets the use of his upper lip again."

"Why--" interrogated Mrs. Lathrop.

"Young Dr. Brown wanted to," said Susan, "he wanted to fill my ears with mud, an' my eye, too, but I didn't feel to have it done. You can't die o' wasps' bills, an' you can o' young Dr. Brown's--leastways when you ain't got no money to pay 'em, like I ain't got just at present."

"It's--" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"Yes," said Susan, "it struck me that way, too. This seems to be a very unlucky town. Anything as comes seems to catch us all in a bunch. The cow most lamed the whole community an' the automobile most broke its back; time'll tell what'll be the result o' these wasps, but there won't be no church Sunday for one thing, I know.

"An' it ain't the least o' my woes, Mrs. Lathrop, to think as I've got to sit an' smile on Mr. Weskin to-night from between two such ears as I've got, for a man is a man, an' it can't be denied as a woman as is mainly ears ain't beguilin'. Besides, I may in confidence state to you, Mrs. Lathrop, as the one as buzzed aroun' my head wan't really no wasp a-_tall_ in comparison to the one as got under my skirts."

Mrs. Lathrop's eyes were full of sincere condolence; she did not even imagine a smile as she gazed upon her afflicted friend.

"I must go," said the latter, rising with a groan, "seems like I never will reach the bottom o' my troubles this year. I keep thinkin' there's nothin' left an' then I get a wasp at each end at once. Well, I'll come over when Mr. Weskin goes--if I have strength."

Then she limped home.

It was about nine that night that she returned and pounded vigorously on her friend's window-pane. Mrs. Lathrop woke from her rocker-nap, went to the window and opened it. Susan stood below and the moon illuminated her smile and her ears with its most silvery beams.

"He's just gone!" she announced.

"Yes," said Mrs. Lathrop, rubbing her eyes.

"He's gone; I come over to tell you."

"What--" said Mrs. Lathrop.

"I wouldn't care if my ears was as big as a elephant's now."

"Why--" asked Mrs. Lathrop.

"Mrs. Lathrop, you know as I took them bonds straight after father died an' locked 'em up an' I ain't never unlocked 'em since?"

Mrs. Lathrop a.s.sented with a single rapt nod.

"Well, when I explained to Mr. Weskin as I'd got to have money an' how was the best way to sell a bond, he just looked at me, an' what do you think he said--what _do_ you think he said, Mrs. Lathrop?"

Mrs. Lathrop hung far out over the window-sill--her gaze was the gaze of the ever earnest and interested.

Susan stood below. Her face was aglow with the joy of the affluent--her very voice might have been for once ent.i.tled as silvery.

"He said, Mrs. Lathrop, he said, 'Miss Clegg, why don't you go down to the bank and cut your coupons?'"

THE TWO PRISONERS

BY CAROLYN WELLS

Once upon a time there were two Prisoners at the bar, who endeavored to plead for themselves with Tact and Wisdom.

One concealed certain Facts prejudicial to his Cause; upon which the Judge said: "If you had Confessed the Truth it would have Biased me in your Favor; as it is, I Condemn you to Punishment."

The other stated his Case with absolute Truth and Sincerity, concealing Nothing; and the result was that he was Condemned for his Misdemeanors.

MORALS:

This Fable teaches that Honesty is the Best Policy, and that the Truth should not Be spoken at All Times.

A MODERN ADVANTAGE

BY CHARLOTTE BECKER

One morning, when the sun shone bright And all the earth was fair, I met a little city child, Whose ravings rent the air.

"I lucidly can penetrate The Which," I heard him say,-- "The How is, wonderfully, come To clear the limpid way.

"The sentence, rarely, rose and fell From ceiling to the floor; Her words were spotlessly arranged, She gave me, strangely, more."

"What troubles you, my little man?"

I dared to ask him then,-- He fixed me with a subtle stare, And said, "Most clearly, when

"You see I'm occupied, it's rude To question of my aims-- I'm going to the adverb school Of Mr. Henry James!"

THE RAGGEDY MAN

BY JAMES WHITCOMB RILEY

O the Raggedy Man! He works fer Pa; An' he's the goodest man ever you saw!

He comes to our house every day, An' waters the horses, an' feeds 'em hay; An' he opens the shed--an' we all ist laugh When he drives out our little old wobble-ly calf; An' nen--ef our hired girl says he can-- He milks the cow fer 'Lizabuth Ann.-- Aint he a' awful good Raggedy Man?

Raggedy! Raggedy! Raggedy Man!